Butterflies
by Lady Deviance
Summary: It all started out as a simple crush; one of those that fades with time, for one reason or another. The only difference, in her case, is that no matter how hard or what she tried... She only fell further. And those damn butterflies certainly weren't helping! T/P


**Butterflies**

It all started out as a simple crush: one of those that fades with time, for one reason or another. The only difference, in her case, is that no matter how hard or what she tried... she only fell further. And those damn butterflies certainly weren't helping! T/P

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- 01 -

Was she dreaming?

She breathed in, inhaling his scent. Oh, how addictive that scent of masculine musk and freshly cut lavender - how very fitting of him - was to her heightened Saiyan senses. Especially since it was from him.

She knew she should stop, that she needed to let go. But he was her Romeo - her poison apple.

Although he may have been her Romeo, she would never be his Juliet.

That was why she had to let go.

Being the selfish creature that she was, she just wanted to hold onto him - repercussions be damned - with her arms draped around his neck and nose buried in the crook of his neck, sharing heat and inhaling his scent for as long as he would allow.

It had been so long since she had done this... Since she had even laid eyes on his form.

Her eyes fluttered open, barely enough to allow light through her long, raven lashes. Pert lips parting, she releases a deep breath. Almost a sigh. Ever so lightly, she stepped back and pushed him away. She couldn't let her resolve waver.

His eyes held a sea- no, an ocean- of emotions; joy, confusion, and even a hint of hurt evident among others. Her chest clenched. She'd loved his eyes too; that azure hue was like a sheet of glass, beautiful and so clear that she could almost read his mind. So kind and caring; they suited his beauty and personality perfectly.

But they also reflected his feelings for her.

In his eyes, she was reflected as a little sister he would looked out for; or at best, a friend. Platonic feelings that were no longer enough for her.

There it was again...

That insistent tug.

It was her heart; the very one she'd so carelessly allowed to be ripped from her sleeve.

The one he had unknowingly stole.

Or, had she given it to him?

That infernal organ that she needed but didn't want. It was being sliced to pieces by someone who didn't even know how much of an impact his actions - even such a casual thing like a hug - had on her. It was bleeding.

She hated him for it. And she hated herself for feeling this way. She knew it was wrong and that he would never feel the same. That's right; he shouldn't feel the same. It was _weird._

But she loved him so much, and although she didn't always know it, she'd had for years. Even before the events of the Grand Tour, which only strengthened those one sided bonds.

She hated throwing that awful four letter word - the one that began with an 'l'- around like a cheap rubber ball. But what else could she dub these emotions? For years they were just a 'simple crush', but now that'd be somewhat of an understatement.

Tilting his head to one side in mock-childish cuteness, his mesmerizing gaze met her own. Immediately, that insufferable feeling returned.

Butterflies.

The next time she sees one, she swears, she'll smash it. Or rip it's wings off, so it would be nothing more than an ugly worm. Much like a similarity to her present self.

A vow in vain, because she knows she couldn't do it. Killing or mutilating a poor, innocent insect would not alleviate even a small fraction the pain she feels. In all honesty, it would only serve to make her feel even worse.

Because it was her own fault for being weak and "falling in love" with someone so unattainable. She had mighty Saiyan blood, for Dende's sake- it was about time for her to own up and start acting like one, or at least start _thinking_ like one!

His lips parted in preparation to speak, and she mentally smacked herself for wondering how those sinful lips would feel if she were to slip her arms around his neck and smash hers against them; how he would taste as she surfed her tongue across his bottom lip, asking entrance...

She dearly hoped he didn't notice her stare. And thanked Dende he couldn't read her mind.

"Hey Panny, what's the matter? I don't have any cooties... I think." At the last comment, his sultry voice broke into a bellowing laughter. Her heart clenched; her iron will the only barrier keeping the river of tears at bay. At least he didn't notice.

And if he did, he would hardly spare a thought to it. In Trunks' eyes, she would never be anything more than an immature little child he had been coerced into babysitting more than a decade ago; no matter how old or how mature she became.

He just didn't understand. Couldn't comprehend. And sometimes, she was thankful for his blissful ignorance. She didn't want to burden him with her festering emotions. His blissfully ignorant self had at lease allowed them to maintain what they'd always had, despite their immense age gap.

A friendship.

And for that friendship, she would endure this pathetic little pain, and toss her love aside. Even if it were only for a moment with him, untainted by these horrible, unholy desires he'd think 'Pan-chan' was incapable of possessing.

She'd harbored such emotions for this amazing man, but was content with their friendship. Or so she told herself. She knew painfully well it was wrong to feel this way, and couldn't possibly ever go back to thinking of him as she knew he thought of her.

She would sip poison, and lick the bottle clean. Then pitifully beg for more as she breathed her last breath.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She released a quiet snort.

"Sorry boxer boy, but I believe my thoughts are worth more than a penny... More than even _you_ can afford." No amount of money could ever purchase her thoughts. Pan was a good many things, but a gold-digger wasn't one of them. She would love Trunks even if he was a penniless pauper. "So no, no penny for my thoughts."

He chuckled a bit more. She wondered why he was in such a giggly mood. Perhaps he had sipped an abnormally potent alcoholic beverage that she was still to young to taste. She quickly ruled that out, though, as she hadn't smelled so much as a drop on his person.

"Ah, well I didn't expect many thoughts from that pea-sized brain anyways, but it was worth a shot. It almost would have been a penny well spent, little Panny." He then ruffled her hair; just like he did years ago, when she was hardly tall enough to pull his own.

Without a word or glance of warning, her fist snaked out at an upward angle. She stifled a giggle when he rubbed his bicep, like it had _actually_ hurt. He should be thankful she wasn't the type of girl who pulled hair or fought dirty.

"Ouch! You know I was kidding! Be gentle, I'm delicate." He whined minutely before flashing a grin. He was _such _a brat sometimes.

Damn butterflies!

"Even if it _is_ true- Ouch!"

- Fin -

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A/N: I hope this was up to par... I wrote it Spring 2013 and never got around to posting it. Hehe... Reviews are much appreciated. Maybe give me a few ideas for more? Also, I understand that there is a multi-chap T/P fic out there with the same title... But similarities end there. I couldn't think of a more fitting title, so...

Thanks for reading!

- Lady Deviance


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